


Messed Up

by ArcticLucie



Series: Needed/Wanted [3]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Blow Jobs, Kitchen Sex, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Pre-Daaric, a smidgen of Rick bashing sorry not sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-22
Updated: 2015-11-22
Packaged: 2018-05-02 22:10:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5265515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArcticLucie/pseuds/ArcticLucie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daryl catches Aaron and Eric in an intimate encounter somewhere during <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/3585888/chapters/7907418">Moving In.</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Messed Up

**Author's Note:**

> This might read better if you've read some or part of [Moving In](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3585888/chapters/7907418) but can probably be read as a stand-alone.
> 
> This is basically me rebelling against Rick rn, because I'm kind of pissed at him in canon and this is definitely the series I run to when that happens for catharsis since it was me being pissed at him last season that got me on this ship in the first place. And also my Rickyl muse is D-E-A-D dead. Maybe it'll come back, maybe not, but either way I need more Daaric in my life. Enjoy!

It wasn’t intentional, it absolutely was not, but the fact that he didn’t turn away, didn’t run away or speak up when he had the chance, or rather _chances,_ very much was. It was messed up, but he just couldn’t. He was paralyzed, rooted to the hardwood floor, maybe caught in quicksand, he couldn’t be sure, but when he saw them together, a fuse blew in his brain and he couldn’t help himself, couldn't look away, almost couldn’t breathe because it was like gazing into a heavenly abyss.

He had walked in on them kissing before, in a heated lover’s embrace, but they’d break away once they noticed him. They were so fucking mindful of his comfort level that sometimes it pissed him off, but he accepted that it was just who they were. This, however, escalated so fast that his head was left spinning. And he’d be lying if he said it hadn’t been part of some sick twisted fantasy he’d had in the back of his depraved little mind the whole time he’d been living with the couple, that they'd wake up one morning and want him, both of them.

He’d gone out back for a quick smoke on his way to bed right before it happened. His bike was almost finished and he had been putting in a lot of late hours on it to get it to he point where he could take it out on scouting runs. It wasn’t quite there yet, but he’d be damned before he let a Frankenstein bike get the better of him.

The garage was locked up and the couple must’ve thought he’d already gone to his room because when he came back in, careful to shut the door real quiet as to not rouse anyone who might've been sleeping—or not—they were in the kitchen. Eric was sitting on the table with Aaron standing between his parted legs, both sans shirts, and Eric's hands thrust into the back of Aaron’s pajama bottoms.

That was the moment he should’ve spoken up, said “g‘night” or some shit like that, cleared his throat even, but when he opened his mouth, Eric let out the most delicious sounding moan he’d ever been privileged to hear as Aaron sucked on the skin of his neck, and he lost the ability to articulate anything other than the stuttering of air into his needy lungs.

He’d made his choice, tucked himself into the little alcove by the pantry, hidden away from their vantage point. He lied to himself and said it was instinct that made him hide away, but it wasn’t. If he had really wanted to sneak by them, he could have—he might’ve had to wait until they were a little further along and oblivious to silent hunters with hard-ons passing by in the night—but he could’ve done it, should’ve done it.

At that point, he knew he was going to hell, shit they were already there, but if there was a hell, he had just punched his one-way ticket down the river Styx on his way to Tartarus. But he was pretty sure Eric was on some Elysian field by the sounds Aaron was coaxing from him as those beautiful, plump lips snaked their way down his pale lithe body, Daryl’s hand involuntarily mirroring the path down his own chest without his consent.

Aaron was soon on his knees, Eric leaning back on one hand to hold himself up while the other twined in corkscrew curls. Daryl could see over the counter, over Aaron’s shoulder, and watched as he drew the head of Eric’s cock into his mouth, his own watering as he thanked his genetics for his quite impressive night vision because he could just make out the outline of what he knew to be a tongue as Aaron swirled it around the crown of his boyfriend’s dick.

“Fuck, baby,” Eric gasped, pulling Daryl’s, and probably Aaron’s, blue eyes up to his. They were glistening in what little light shown from the appliances, and Daryl imagined how blown wide they must have been, two saucers eating up light like black holes and pulling everything into his orbit, while jealous and envy and blatant want welled inside him.

Daryl tried to resist, he tried so fucking hard, to keep from getting any kind of enjoyment out of the display, but his hand found his way to the bulge in his ratty pants anyway, and he was unconscious of the palm pressing against the turgid flesh of his shame as the almost long forgotten sound of a blowjob rang in his ears, wet and sloppy and so fucking dirty that he had to bite into the side of his cheek to keep a moan in check.

Eric didn’t have to, and that was almost torture enough having to listen to the angelic chorus pouring from his lips, but then he was pulling Aaron up for a searing kiss that Daryl swore was accompanied by sparks. He didn’t know what would happen next only that he prayed for the first time in his miserable existence for them not to go upstairs just yet.

And it was answered.

“Fuck me now,” Eric said, nay demanded, and Aaron tried to give some sort of protest, but it was shut down when Eric grabbed him by the curls and smashed their lips together again. “He’s already in bed,” he offered when they parted, chests heaving, and suddenly Daryl was all too aware of how loud he was breathing.

“…what if he’s not?” Aaron countered.

Maybe that was the moment Daryl should’ve spoken up, but Eric’s sinfully wicked chuckle dissuaded him of that idea. “If he’s not, we could ask him to join us.”

Daryl wasn’t about to read into that, or the way in which Eric almost sounded sincere, so fucking innocent, but he couldn’t have been. It was a heat of the moment thing, pillow talk, foreplay, and Daryl wasn’t stupid enough to think two people so in love would even give him the time of day separately let alone if they were already happily coupled.

Not that he needed more proof, but Daryl was glad he wasn’t the only one Eric had wrapped around his little finger because Aaron’s pj’s made their way onto the floor. Eric’s arms curled around Aaron’s neck and Daryl was both thoroughly disgusted with himself and so very turned on as he watched Aaron enter him, Eric’s mouth morphing into the perfect oval of unmistakable pleasure giving them away, his head lulling back while Aaron licked a line up his milky white neck.

It had been too long, and Daryl missed that feeling, of both being entered and sinking his dick into the tight heat of some hot guy’s ass. It was too much, the weakest point he’d been at since he and Rick had broken off whatever it was they had, and for a moment, Daryl was giving serious consideration to working things out with the newly deputized constable. Maybe he could be okay with being his dick on the side, the quick fuck he needed when he and Jessie were fighting, or maybe just someone to turn to for a quick blow in some dark lit corner of Alexandria when the desire struck.

A few garbled “I love you's” snapped him back from his delusions. That’s not what he wanted, to be used, a fucking sex toy brought out only when Rick wanted to have a little fun with something tight and wet and hollow on the inside. He wanted what Aaron and Eric had, making love on their kitchen table while they gazed so lovingly into each other’s eyes that heart bubbles might have been spotted floating above them. And they certainly put all those damn fairytales he’d heard about to shame.

He wasn’t so dense that he thought he could actually have it, something like that, but he knew he couldn’t go back to what him and Rick had. No fucking way.

Because this was beautiful, the graceful arch of Eric’s bowed body as Aaron drove into him, the flex and pull of Aaron’s muscles from the movement, the way his shoulders dimpled under Eric’s fingers as he held on tight. That’s what he deserved. Someone who said “I want you” not “I need you.” He wasn’t going to roll over and present himself like a bitch to anyone, let alone Rick fucking Grimes who was giving more consideration to his dick these days than his family.

No, he was worth more than that. It wasn’t much, but it was more than what Rick was willing to offer. Even if he had to be alone for the rest of his miserable life, it was better than being used.

That was the point in which he turned away. Stuck his nose in a corner and tried to remember the words to every Metallica song he could think of to drown out the sound of the two lovers and their most intimate moment. It wasn’t his to have, to share, to witness, and he already felt like enough of a creep as it was. No need to go full-on Eugene.

The table stopped squeaking and he heard soft laughter trailing away, the stairs starting to give under weight. He felt dirty all of the sudden, and not the kind he was used to that consisted of being caked in earth and motor oil. But that didn’t stop him from jacking off for weeks after to the images from that night. Or daydreaming about waking up to Aaron’s lips stretched over his cock. Or getting to splay Eric out on that kitchen table some random Tuesday morning.

So yes, it was messed up, but it wasn't like he'd ever been a fucking saint.

**Author's Note:**

> Also, I'm pretty sure Eric knew Daryl was there the whole time because, like always, he's a gay mastermind like that. My Eric rules the fucking world and I'mma cry my ovaries out if/when they/I kill him off.


End file.
